ANZAC
by Ayami Aras
Summary: It's World War One and Australia and New Zealand are battling on the Gallipoli Peninsula in Turkey. It was supposed to be an easy victory, but as the battle gets dragged out for months the two young nations finally start to realize what war is all about.


"Come on NZ, let's show the world that we're forces to be reckoned with now too! Let's throw our hats into this Great War." Australia's smile was bright and eager. New Zealand's was just as excited. They were newly formed nations, still young and so naïve.

"You and me, brother. We'll fight side by side. I've got your back and you've got mine." Australia flashed a thumbs-up at his brother's statement in agreeance. They were preparing for an upcoming battle, their first one. They were still ignorant to the horrors of war.

"After we get the Turks to surrender, what should we do next?" The Aussie was already counting this one as a victory even before their ships even entered Turkish water. New Zealand laughed and told him to just stay focused on this one for now and they'd plan their next battle over lunch.

"…" Then they arrived at Gallipoli in the Ottoman Empire. It was early morning, before the sun even rose. Nerves were finally sinking in and neither of them had anymore cocky words for each other. They just glanced at each other briefly, determination masking any fear they might feel. Then they lead their countrymen, the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps, the ANZAC, forward to what they were hoping would be an easy victory.

There was a roaring sound in New Zealand's ears. He heard the shots and saw men falling around him. The fresh new troops were breaking in their rifles and boots as they attacked. Things suddenly got very real. The blood that spilt was very real. The cries of pain were very real. The death was very real. The war was suddenly very real.

Days had passed since they had landed. The brothers had dug trenches and were secure enough in their position, but they couldn't advance much more than that. "Well this is annoying." Australia grumbled as he sat in a trench with New Zealand at his side.

The flies. The flies were everywhere! "Damn it!" New Zealand cursed and swatted at the flies as they swarmed about, attracted by the sweat on their brows and the pitiful rations of jam they were trying to eat.

Almost a month had passed since they had landed. Both Australia and New Zealand were getting tired. Sure they hadn't actually thought that they would be victorious by lunchtime the day they landed, but a month?

It was dark. The sun had set long ago and wouldn't rise anytime soon. There was the sound of rifles and machine guns. Bullets whizzed past. It felt like millions of Turkish soldiers were attacking them. Thank God they had been somewhat prepared thanks to a tip off from one of England's men. But still! "Holly shit!" Australia fired, only half able to see what he was aiming at. His heart beat was frenzied. The battle felt like it would never end, but at last it did and the sun rose. The battle had both lasted forever and for just a moment. As Australia watched the sun rise, he understood, perhaps for the first time, how brave and determined their foe was. Despite being enemies, he respected them for that.

New Zealand wrinkled his nose. Only a few days had passed since the attempted sneak attack by their enemies. Dead bodies were littered about the ground as far as the eye could see. There were thousands of Turks alone. New Zealand coughed, unable to take the smell of the rotting flesh any longer.

A truce was arranged to collect and bury the dead. "Not out of any moral obligation or religious sympathy but because we can't take the fucking smell anymore!" New Zealand spat bitterly as he started to _taste_ the rotten scent of the no man's land.

Australia tried to ignore the smell as he closed the eyes of a fallen comrade. Nearby he overheard a Turkish officer talking to one of his Captains. "At this spectacle even the most gentle must feel savage and the most savage must weep." Australia found the words funny. He hadn't cried yet. There was no time for tears in war. He had to protect his people, protect New Zealand, but during the heat of a battle all he really could do was try to protect himself.

Australia and New Zealand stood at attention with their countrymen. It was disheartening how many of their friends were gone. They were being addressed by a Major-General Alexander Godley. "I have come here today to tell you with what great pride and satisfaction I have watched your performances during the last five weeks…Yours is a fine record and one which you yourselves and Australia should be proud of." They held their heads high although neither Australia nor New Zealand could say for sure that the feeling they were experiencing was pride.

"You know you've been too long at war when you get this happy over soggy bread!" New Zealand actually smiled at his brother. Apparently a bakery opened not too far from where they were fighting and the first shipment of bread had just arrived. It had gotten a little wet, but it was a hell of a lot better than the bread they had been eating up until now.

"NZ, I'm going to bathe. You wanna come?" Australia was about to slip out with a few others, but New Zealand shook his head. He was too tired to move.

The unmistakable sound of shell-fire filled the air only a few minutes later. There were shouts and New Zealand shot to his feet. From somewhere the news came to him that eight bathers had been hit. The kiwi's heart dropped to his feet and his legs suddenly felt like lead.

"Good God!" Australia reappeared in front of New Zealand's eyes. He was alive. "What a close call, eh, NZ?" He grinned, but it was clear that he was shaken.

"Fuck it all!" Australia screamed in rage as he wrung his hands and paced back and forth. He didn't understand why he was so angry so suddenly. After all this time and all the death that surrounded him, why should he suddenly get angry about it now? Six of his fellow countrymen had been captured by the enemy earlier that day. Six of his friends. Six fellow soldiers that he had fought alongside, that he had put his life on the line for. "God fucking damn it!" He cursed again, frustrated and just sick of it all. New Zealand could do nothing to comfort the Aussie and so he just sat and watched with a frown on his face.

If dying by the bullet of the enemy wasn't bad enough, disease started to break out among the ANZAC troops.

The one hundredth day since the ANZAC landed came and went the same as every other day. Australia fired and shot down another enemy. He wasn't sure how many men he had killed now. He had lost count long ago. One of his comrades standing right beside him was shot down and died instantly. Australia had also lost count of how many of his countrymen he had witnessed lose their lives.

Weeks of preparation finally saw fruition in the form of a major offense. New Zealand and Australia were determined to take some ground. The two brothers fought side by side in this offense, but neither of them spared a glance for the other. Their focus was needed elsewhere. The Turkish front line fell. New Zealand heard Australia's breath catch in a brief moment of joy. The New Zealand Mounted Rifles advanced up the valleys claiming good heights. Out of the corner of his eye, Australia saw the little nation next to him straighten with pride.

They were being pushed back. They couldn't hold on to their newly gained position on the hill! Sure they still had some land gained, but overall their "August Offensive" ended in failure. Neither Australia nor New Zealand spoke to each other that night. What was there really to say anyway?

Their next objective was to take hill 60. "Horrible naming sense don't you think, Aus'?" New Zealand smiled and Australia rolled his eyes at his brother's attempt at humor.

"What's the matter NZ?" New Zealand approached his brother with the most pathetic look on his face Australia had seen thus far.

"I just saw the dentist." He mumbled, a hand holding his numb cheek.

"Four calendar months since we landed on Gallipoli and not much progress made yet."

"This was supposed to be an easy victory!" New Zealand complained to no one in particular. Around him sat several soldiers with defeated expressions on their faces. They had long since lost that optimistic energy that had originally propelled them forward. "We were supposed to crush the Turks here, then move on to their capital and knock Turkey out of this damned war ages ago!"

"NZ," Australia said meekly. He reached out a hand to touch his brother's arm, but the kiwi pulled away in anger. They were both tired and hungry and had seen enough of this war.

Again Australia and New Zealand were lined up to have someone tell them, "The King asked me to tell you how splendidly he thinks you have done—you have done splendidly, better even than I thought you would." Bull shit.

The ANZAC were ordered not to fire on the Turks unless they were fired at first or threatened. This was preparation for retreat.

Australia's teeth chattered. He woke up freezing. He fumbled in the dark to find more clothes he could put on until he was wearing everything from his overcoat to his boots. Before falling asleep again he heard his brother whisper. "It's cold." The two huddled together for warmth that night.

Mouths hung open as the sunlight was reflected off freshly fallen snow.

Numbers started to dwindle. "We're retreating aren't we?" New Zealand asked Australia. Australia just nodded his head. "But we'll be the last ones to leave won't we?" Again, Australia just nodded his head. "It's our duty." New Zealand's eyes couldn't help but scan the hastily made graves, the signs of death around them. He couldn't help but think about all those men who wouldn't be returning home.

Australia and New Zealand left with the rear guard. The retreat had been a success. The Turks never knew they were in full retreat and they didn't attack at all. As they left the bloodstained land behind them, neither New Zealand nor Australia spoke a word to interrupt the other's thoughts. The silence pressed in around them and was heavy with several emotions: Failure. Regret. Anger. Sorrow. Relief. Confusion. Outrage. Bitterness. Neither could name everything they were feeling at that moment in time.

It wasn't until they were out to sea with the bloodied land disappearing in the distance did Australia finally speak up. "So this is war, huh, NZ?"

New Zealand nodded. "Yes. I don't think I like it very much."

Australia chuckled. "Yeah, but we're not done yet."

"We must follow this through to the end."

"Maybe we'll learn our lesion by the next Great War and stay out of it." Australia laughed a little bitterly.

"Maybe." Was New Zealand's only response, although his voice clearly carried more meaning than that. Hopefully there wouldn't be another Great War, but if there was they would probably end up fighting once again. The only difference would be that next time they would be more prepared for the horrors war had to offer them.

New Zealand and Australia both stood on the deck of the ship and watched as the last hill tops faded from sight, but not from their memories.


End file.
